Be Careful What You Wish For
by youren0tahero
Summary: Kurt Hummel's tired of being bullied, he's tired of living a life he doesn't deserve. The only thing good in his life anymore is Blaine Anderson. But, with the stress of being bullied every day, sometimes it isn't enough. Kurt wishes he had a different life, a new one. But Kurt is going to learn to always be careful what you wish for. AU!ish T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** So, I know it isn't good to start a new fic in the middle of writing another one, but I couldn't help myself. I suddenly got this idea for a fic and I wanted to write it down before I forgot it, but I ended up writing the whole thing in one night. I'm actually kind of satisfied with it. This was originally intended to be a one-shot, but it just got too long. I hope you enjoy the fic!

**Disclaimer**: Once again I am sadly reminded of the fact that I do not own Glee, Kurt Hummel, or Blaine Anderson.

* * *

_This isn't fair,_ Kurt Hummel thought as he lay down in the dumpster, staring up at the sky. What was the point of getting up? He was just going to get thrown back in there by the end of the day, anyway. _This isn't fair that I'm treated this way just because I have an amazing fashion sense and a far more superior intelligence than the imbeciles who throw me in here every day._

_ It isn't fair that I'm tormented every day of my life because I can't help who I love._

But if there's one thing Kurt has learned from living in backwards, hick-town, conservative Lima, Ohio, it's that life isn't fair.

Kurt sat up in the dumpster, moving his head from side to side to see who would witness his walk of shame from the dumpster to the boy's bathroom. Luckily, the bell already rung and no one was there to stare at him and whisper about him as if he weren't there on his way to the bathroom to make sure he looked presentable.

Kurt threw his book bag over the edge of the dumpster, hearing the loud thud it caused once it hit the ground. Kurt mustered up the strength to drape his right arm and leg over the side of the dumpster before rolling over the edge, trying to land on his feet.

But, because this is Kurt Hummel's life, he landed on his face.

He heard a harsh sigh. "Damn, Lady, you'd think you'd have perfected the dumpster jump by now." Kurt looked up to find Santana Lopez towering over him, her hands on her hips. "I can't believe those assholes are still doing this to you. I mean, if _I'm_ not even picking on you anymore then they shouldn't be either."

Kurt decided not to tell Santana that calling him a lady _was_ still considered picking on him, because he knew Santana meant well; she just wasn't very good at being nice. He took the hand Santana offered to him, having her help him up. She patted at his clothes, trying to will away the dirt that had gathered all over him because of his fall. "This sucks," Kurt groaned, tossing his bag over his shoulder.

Santana frowned. She didn't like seeing Kurt this way. If anyone asked her, she'd be sure to deny it but, Kurt was her… friend. Kurt was her friend, and no one treated her friends this way. "One day, they're going to wish they never treated you like this," she assures him.

"Sadly," he sighs. "That day is _not_ today."

* * *

Kurt's phone chimed as he walked to his locker after school.

_Hope you had a good day. Coffee later?_

It was a text from Blaine Anderson, the only thing good in Kurt's life.

Blaine was Kurt's… boyfriend? Was that the word you used to explain the guy who you've been best friends with for two months, sang several flirty duets with, and gone on multiple dates with in the last two months but hasn't asked you to be official yet? Whatever Blaine was, Kurt was just glad that he was in his life.

Kurt walked down the hall with his thumbs hovering over the keypad on the phone, thinking of what to reply to Blaine when the phone flew out of his hand and he flew into the wall next to him. Kurt's face twisted in pain and he looked up to find a tall boy in a red and yellow letterman jacket chuckling as he walked down the hall. "_Imbecile!"_ Kurt cried after him. The boy looked confused at Kurt's word choice but blew it off, walking away. _My point exactly_, Kurt thought.

He sighed and reached over for his phone a few feet to the left of him before crying out in pain. His side _hurt_. He thought that his ribs had become indestructible by now, having had to endure slams into the lockers of McKinley high school every day for the last two years, but that was no ordinary slam. Tears welled in Kurt's eyes as he tried to stand up, his whole body aching.

"Dude," a male voice said above him. Kurt looked up to find his fellow glee club member, Noah Puckerman, looking down at him. "What happened? Did Karofsky hit you again? Because I swear to _God_ if he does it one more time, I'm going to beat his ass."

Puck knelt down next to Kurt, picking up his phone and handing it to him. "You don't look so good, dude."

_Wow, what a nice observation, Puck. You should be a rocket scientist, _Kurt rolled his eyes. He was glad to have Puck care so much about him, but _obviously_ Kurt didn't look so good, he just got assaulted and internally bruised. "I'm fine," Kurt lied, taking his phone from Puck. It took everything in Kurt not to cry out in pain when he stood up.

"Come on, dude," Puck slung his arm around Kurt's shoulders, making him wince. "Let's go to glee."

* * *

"You're the only thing good in my life," Kurt finally admits to Blaine as they're sitting down drinking coffee at the Lima Bean.

A smile plays on Blaine's lips, "You're too sweet to me, you know?" He reached across the table, clutching Kurt's hand.

Kurt looked down at his coffee and frowned. "You're the only thing I look forward to anymore," he whispers.

Blaine became filled with concern. "What happened, Kurt? Are you okay?"

"I just," Kurt's throat began to tighten and he had to swallow to open it up again. "I hate it here," he explains. "I hate living in Lima, I hate being bullied every day, and I hate no one caring about me. Which makes me hate myself because I feel like it's _my_ fault no one cares about me, and I hate who I am and I hate McKinley and I just… I wish it could have been different, you know? My life," Kurt bit his lip, trying to stop the tears from flooding out of his eyes and down his cheeks.

"I wish my life was different," Kurt whispered.

"I care about you," Blaine assured him.

Kurt gave Blaine a sad smile, because even though he was the only thing good in Kurt's miserable life.

Sometimes that just wasn't enough.

* * *

Kurt was unable to sleep that night.

He normally lied on his side, curled up into a ball while he slept, but the pain in his ribs was just too much to bear. He laid down on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

_I hate my life,_ he thought. _I hate my life, I want a new one. I want a do-over. I want to live a life where I matter, where people care and I don't have to go through this every day of my life._

Hot, angry tears threatened to overfill in Kurt's eyes.

_I wish I had a different life._

* * *

Kurt woke up the next morning to the sound of his cell phone ringing.

He groaned, blindly reaching over and hitting his hand down on his bedside table trying to search for his phone. Once he finally found it, he lifted his head long enough to slide the 'accept call' button over, answering his phone. "Hello?" he answered, his voice was rough from sleep.

"Rise and shine!" Kurt flinched away from the phone. The voice was way too loud for it to be seven in the morning, too high-pitched and annoying.

"Who's this?"

"Kurt, are you kidding me? Uh, it's your girlfriend?"

"My… What the hell are you talking about?"

_Did she just say she was my _girlfriend_?_

"Rachel? Come on, Kurt, I know you're not still drunk from last night."

Rachel?

Rachel… _Berry_?

Rachel Berry as in glee club superstar who was the epitome of annoying?

"If this is some kind of joke, it's not funny Rachel so just stop." Kurt said into the phone, his patience growing very thin.

"Well, Kurt, if _this_ is some kind of a joke it stopped being funny a long time ago. Now wake up, get ready for school, and come pick me up so we can go. Okay? Okay." Rachel shouted into the phone before she hung up.

Kurt lied down in bed for a few minutes. What the hell just happened? _Man, it's going to hurt to sit up_, Kurt thought, thinking back to his bruise from yesterday. It took Kurt a while before he finally inhaled a deep breath, sitting up in his bed as quickly as possible and waiting for the wave of overwhelming pain to hit him.

But it didn't.

Kurt lifted up his shirt and looked down at his ribcage. He was completely unmarred, as if the stupid jock had never pushed him into the lockers at all. Kurt jumped up out of his bed, running into the wall where his bathroom door would have been. But… That wasn't there either.

Where did it go? Where did the bruise go?

Kurt looked around his room. It was darkened by curtains that hadn't been there yesterday, blocking most of the sunlight from his window. In the dim light he could see a room. No, it wasn't _his_ room. His room didn't look like this. This room was a- This room was a _man cave_.

The bland white colored walls were covered in posters of football teams and action movies and… girls in bikinis. _Oh god,_ Kurt shivered. _I think I'm going to throw up_.

He looked at his bed to see not his plush grey-blue bed set that matched the color of his eyes, but multiple different colors that clashed together. Orange and purple and green and brown and oh god what is happening. Through his open closet door he could see tennis shoes lined up at the bottom of his closet, and hanging up was an endless amount of sports jerseys.

"Where am I?" Kurt whispered, looking around the room. He brought his hands up to his hair, pulling at it as he pressed his back against the door, slowly sliding down the wall. _Is this some kind of cruel joke? What's going on? Where am I? Where's my dad? Is he okay? Are Finn and Carole okay?_

"Kurt!" he heard a loud, booming voice that could only belong to his dad yell at him. "Hurry it up, will you? If you don't, you're going to be late to school again!"

_School? I can't go to school! Where are all my clothes!?_

Kurt slowly opened up the door, looking left and right down the hallway. He was in his old house, the one him and his dad had before they had moved in with Carole and Finn. What were they doing here? Did Burt and Carole have a fight?

Kurt ran into the bathroom, pressing his back to the door as he slammed it close. He looked at the sink to see only gel and a toothbrush holder. Where the hell were his skin care products? Kurt opened the cabinet in the restroom to see if they were stocked away in there somewhere. Nope, empty. He walked slowly in front of the mirror, grateful that his appearance hadn't changed… Well, at least it hadn't changed much. He had more acne than he had yesterday. Dear god how on earth did that even happen overnight? Everything else was the same, though.

Kurt rose up his shirt, turning sideways in the mirror. His bruises were completely gone, as if they had never even been there in the first place. He actually looked sort of buff. He had gone from skinny and lanky and weak to, well, still skinny, but more muscular now than he had been before.

Kurt dropped his shirt and grabbed on to the edge of the sink to steady himself as his knees grew weaker.

"What the hell is happening?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Well, it took you long enough," Kurt's dad, Burt Hummel, said as Kurt descended the stairs and walked into the kitchen.

He put down the newspaper he was reading and raised a questioning eyebrow at Kurt. "Are you okay, kid?"

"Dad," Kurt said. "What's going on? Why are we here? Did you and Carole fight or something?"

Kurt poured himself a glass of water, chugging it down in two gulps. If Burt and Carole had fought, why didn't his dad give him enough time to pack clothes that actually belonged to him? Kurt looked down in disgust at his outfit, which consisted of dad jeans and a McKinley football jersey he figured could only belong to Finn. "Well?" Kurt probes. "Did you guys have a fight, or what?"

"Kurt," his dad finally replied, his voice laced with confusion.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Who's Carole?"

* * *

Kurt hugged the steering wheel of his Navigator.

At least he still had his baby. At least she was still there.

Who's Carole? If this _was_ a joke on Kurt, it was getting sicker and sicker with each passing moment. Why was his dad in on the joke? How could he even joke about not knowing who Carole was? Kurt sighed in frustration and turned on the Navigator. The stereo was up full blast and it was playing… country music. Not only had he woken up in his old house, surrounded by pictures of _girls_, in _bikini's _no less, with nothing to wear but sports jerseys and dad jeans and Rachel pretending to be his girlfriend. But they were messing with his _radio stations_?!

That was the last straw.

Instead of going to school Kurt drove to his house—_his _house, the one he lived at with Finn and Carole and with his _family_. Kurt got out of the car and began marching furiously towards the door. He didn't care how big the argument was, it was getting ridiculous and he needed to change his clothes.

"Carole!" Kurt beat his fist against the door. "Carole, open the door!" Kurt knocked over and over again, hitting down heavier on the door with each knock. "Carole, this isn't funny anymore, let me in!"

The door opened and relief flooded through Kurt. That is, of course, until he found a very pissed off elderly man in the doorway. "Who the hell are you?" Kurt asked.

"_Excuse me?!_" the man yelled. "You're beating down my door, screaming bloody murder at _seven-thirty in the morning,_ and you have the _nerve_ to ask me who _I _am? I should call the cops on you."

"Where's Carole?"

"Are you on drugs, kid? There is no Carole here. Carole doesn't live here. She gave you the wrong address or something. There. Is. No. Carole."

"But… But this is my house."

"No," the old man said, his voice filled with frustration. "This is _my_ house, and I suggest you leave before I call the cops and tell them some weird kid, who I highly suspect is on drugs, is trying to break down my door and get in my house searching for a woman who doesn't even live here."

The door slammed in Kurt's face. He should probably leave, get into his car and drive off to school, but he couldn't. It was as if his legs were suddenly made of lead and he couldn't bring himself to move them. He stood there, wide-eyed and filled with shock.

_You wanted a new life,_ Kurt thought to himself. _Well you got one. Way to go, Kurt._

* * *

"KURT. HUMMEL." Kurt turned around as fast as he could manage, still shell-shocked by his encounter with the elderly man living in his house. Rachel Berry was marching dramatically over to Kurt from the opposite end of the hall, her fists balled up at her sides.

"Guess who had to walk to school today?!" Rachel yelled at him, her arms flailing above her head.

"I don't know," he answered. "Who?"

Her eyes widened and her mouth was opened in a large O shape, shock and anger mixed up into one facial expression_._ "ME, KURT!" Rachel screamed at the top of her lungs and everyone in the hallway began staring at them. "_I_ HAD TO WALK TO SCHOOL TODAY, KURT. YOU KNOW WHY? BECAUSE MY _IDIOT_ BOYFRIEND DITCHED ME AND DIDN'T GIVE ME A RIDE!"

"Rachel," Kurt whispered as calmly as possible. Kurt always tried his hardest to stay under the radar, and Rachel screaming and yelling at him, announcing to all of the school that he was her boyfriend was definitely _not_ the way to do it. "I'm not your boyfriend."

Rachel's jaw tightened as she stood up straight. She was so angry; you could practically _see_ the steam rising from her ears. She nodded her head, pulled her hand back, and slapped Kurt right across the face. A slap so loud, Kurt was sure people in Africa could have heard it. Kurt covered up his cheek and stared at Rachel, a stinging pain running through his right cheek. "You're a jerk, Kurt Hummel!" Rachel yelled before storming off into the crowd that had formed around them.

He heard someone behind him inhale a sharp breath before hissing it out. "Ouch, man," David Karofsky said. "She effed you up pretty good, huh?" he looked pained, as if _he _were the one who had just endured the slap heard around the world. He certainly deserved to have been the one to receive it.

Why was Karofsky acting like he was Kurt's friend? This was David Karofsky, the boy who made Kurt the football team's Public Enemy #1. This was the boy who had made Kurt's life a living hell for the past two years. Kurt took in deep breaths, trying not to let Karofsky get to him before turning around and walking in the opposite direction of the bully.

"Hey, what the hell is your problem, Hummel? Why are you being all… weird?"

"You're my problem, Karofsky," Kurt yelled behind him, continuing to put as much space between him and the bully as possible. "Now leave me alone."

* * *

"Damn, man, I heard you broke up with Rachel," Puck said, sitting down next to Kurt on a bench outside of the school. "I also heard she slapped the shit out of you."

"Leave it to Rachel to always turn things into a soap opera," Kurt mumbled, rolling his eyes at the thought of Rachel.

"Well, I have a present for you," Puck cheered, slapping Kurt on the back. "It's sure to make you feel better!"

"Why am I scared that this isn't going to turn out so good?" Kurt wondered, standing up and following Puck.

"Nah, man," he assured him. "You're going to love it! It's, like, your favorite hobby."

_What, the, hell?_ Kurt thought as Puck led him to the dumpster at the side of the school, yelling 'Ta-da!' to show the whole football team standing in front of the dumpster. "What is this?" Kurt asked.

The crowd of football players split to show two of the football players holding a kicking boy in place; a kicking boy who looked an awful lot like Blaine.

"It's your present!" Puck yelled cheerfully. "Come on, we chose him just for you. Would you do us the honor of tossing him in the dumpster?"

Blaine was struggling against the two football players holding him. He was so small compared to them, short but definitely not weak as Kurt observed the veins and muscles in his arms flex as he tried to break free of their hold. He had several small curls popping out of their helmet of gel as he shook his head back and forth, struggling against the football players. "Let me go! Why can't you guys just leave me alone?" he yelled.

"What the hell are you guys _doing_?" Kurt yelled angrily. Whatever life this is, Kurt didn't want it. He couldn't live in a world where _he_ was the one picking on someone. He didn't want to live a life where_ he_ was the bully who had made his life a living hell.

"Come on, dude, quit being a fag," Puck retorted. "Throw him in there!"

"What did you just call me?" Kurt balled up his fists, swelling with anger. Puck, who had been one of his main supporters in his journey through the hell that is McKinley high school, had just called him the worst possible thing he could. Puck, who was always there to defend him whenever and however he could, had just called him a fag.

Puck, who he thought was his friend.

Kurt turned to the two football players holding on to Blaine's arms. "Let him go," Kurt's voice was hard, and it was clear that he was not a force to be reckoned with right now. But still, the football players didn't move. Instead they looked at Kurt questioningly, raising their eyebrows and looking back and forth between Kurt, Puck, and Blaine. "Now!" Kurt boomed.

The two boys immediately dropped their hold on Blaine, who began rubbing his wrists. "What's your problem today?" one of the boys who had held Blaine asked. "Are you two, like, gay together or something?"

"GO AWAY! Go away!" Kurt yelled at the football players circled around him. "Leave him alone, he didn't do anything to you guys."

"I didn't know he was your boyfriend, Hummel," Puck retorted, staring Kurt in the eye. "Come on guys," he ordered to the rest of the football team. "Let's leave the two _fags_ here to kiss each other."

Anger boiled inside of Kurt, and time stood still. He could handle people he didn't even _know_ picking on him every day, he could handle the cruel words and abuse and torment from strangers who didn't even know him. But when it came from his _friend_ who _knew_ what he was going through and had been through and how much it affected him… Kurt was so angry. He was angry at the world for being filled with narrow-minded assholes like the ones that lived in Lima. He was angry that no matter what life he was given, it wouldn't ever be good. How good could your life even be if you were dating Rachel Berry, anyway? No matter what life he's given, it'll always be shit.

Time started again and Kurt tapped Puck on the shoulder.

"What fa—" Puck's sentence was interrupted by Kurt's fist connecting with his jaw.

"I'm going to remember that," Puck spat out at Kurt, holding a hand to his jaw. "Let's go, guys," he said, walking away with the football team following close behind him.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked Blaine.

The other boy said nothing; he simply just stood there and stared at Kurt. He looked scared. _Scared of me,_ Kurt thought, his heart tightening in his chest. "I'm sorry they did that," Kurt continued. "It isn't fair to you to be treated that way just because you're different."

"Who _are_ you?" Blaine finally answered, his voice laced with apprehension.

"Uh," Kurt didn't know how to reply. Blaine didn't know who he was anymore. Blaine didn't know the Kurt that cared about him and liked to hold his hand. He only knew of Kurt the Bully. "I'm Kurt?"

"No you're not," Blaine retorted. "No you're not, because the Kurt Hummel I know wouldn't have stood up for me like that. In fact, he'd have been more than willing to throw me into that dumpster, and he damn well wouldn't have gotten mad because Noah Puckerman called me a fag. Why should he care? He feels the need to tell me all the time. So, what do you want from me? Are you going to hurt me? Did you just not want witnesses?"

Kurt could feel his eyes getting watery, and his heart ached in a way that Kurt didn't think was possible. Kurt was the one who always threw Blaine in the dumpster? Kurt called… He gulped, his throat tightening. He called Blaine a fag? The tears started to fill to the brink, not yet spilling over. Blaine was scared of him. Blaine, the only thing good in his life, was scared of him. Kurt had hurt him before. Kurt had hurt him when he promised he never would.

"I've hurt you before?"

Blaine laughed, grabbing his backpack off the ground. "You're really funny, Kurt. You're really funny when you try to act like you're not the bad guy."

"But, I- I'm not the bad guy."

"Kurt," Blaine choked. "Every day since the day I moved to this school one year ago, you've picked on me. You've called me names, and ordered your little dim-witted, football playing minions to push me around and join in on the name calling. At least once a week you toss me in the dumpster, you can never pass by me in the halls without making some snide remark about my sexuality and have made it your personal goal in life to make my life a living nightmare. I don't know what I ever did to you to make you want to do that to me, but do not—do _not_—sit there and play the victim. Don't sit there and act like you have any regret about what you've done to me for the past year because if you did, you'd have stopped when I begged you to a long, long time ago. I don't understand how you even have the nerve to stand there and ask me if I'm scared of you. Of course I'm scared of you, I'm scared every time a locker door slams or I hear someone walking behind me or I stand too close to a dumpster. You are my walking, talking, living nightmare. Don't act like you don't know that."

The dam holding in Kurt's tears broke, and the salty water streamed down his face. Kurt choked back sobs, bending over because he felt sick to his stomach. In another life, Kurt was the bully. In another life, it wasn't Kurt who had to endure the pain of being bullied every day, but Blaine. And Blaine didn't deserve that, he didn't deserve to be treated the way Kurt had been treated. "God, I'm so sorry Blaine," he cried. "I'm so sorry I ever did any of that to you. You don't deserve it."

"Why are you doing this?" Blaine demanded. "Why are you suddenly so sorry for the way you've been treating me all this time?"

"Because I know what that feels like," he sobbed. "I know what it feels like to feel the way you feel. I know how it feels to hate your life because people hate you for no reason, and I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone. I especially wouldn't wish it on you. You deserve so much more. I'm so sorry, Blaine."

Blaine's eyes began to prickle. Why was Kurt suddenly so sorry for everything he's done? Because he knew what it felt like? No, he didn't, he didn't know how Blaine felt. He was Kurt Hummel, superstar, dating the most popular girl in school, being friends with all the football players without actually being in football. He was Kurt Hummel, Mr. McKinley, who two days ago wouldn't have cared if Puck threw Blaine in a dumpster or not.

But as Blaine looked in his eyes, he could see the remorse in them. He could see that Kurt was truly and genuinely sorry. He wanted to forgive him. After all, the only thing Blaine had hoped for in the past year was for Kurt to be sorry for what he had done, to apologize and leave him alone. He was finally doing it, and begging Blaine for his forgiveness and to _please_ just understand how sorry he was.

And Blaine wanted to forgive him, he really did. But…

"Sometimes sorry isn't enough, Kurt."


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt had been in bed since three o'clock this evening-it was going on twelve in the morning. He couldn't eat because he was literally sickened by the person he was now, in this new life that he had been given. This new life made his old one look like paradise. At least in his old life he had Blaine. He had Blaine who would go on coffee dates with him and hold his hand in public and look at Kurt like he hung the moon and all the stars in the sky. He'd never look at Kurt that way again, Kurt realized and the tears started running down his face again. He was swimming in a sea of sadness, both figuratively and literally, as the tears slipped off his face and down into his damp pillow.

Blaine was terrified of him now. Kurt was sure that Blaine hated the sight of him. Sorry isn't enough, Blaine's right. Kurt wouldn't have forgiven his bully if he apologized to Kurt. How can Kurt even live a life like this? How could he have lived a life tormenting Blaine instead of loving him?

"I think I hate it here even more than I hated it before," Kurt muttered in the darkness.

"You're an awfully picky person. You can't always get what you want, you know."

Kurt sat up in bed, rubbing the tears from his eyes. His vision cleared up and he couldn't believe who he saw. No, it can't be. Kurt _had_ to be dreaming. "Rory, is that you?"

His friend Rory sat in a chair across the room from him. Rory used to go to school with Kurt and was in glee club with him, too, before he had to move back to Ireland. "Technically," he grinned.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know," Rory shrugged. "Hanging out, and granting wishes, that sort of thing."

"What, you're a genie now?"

"Well, I kind of am. It's really hard to explain. I heard you wish for a new life, so I gave a new life to you. I gave you a new life where you're popular, one where you're not bullied every day, just like you wanted, Kurt. I took on the form of Rory to make you more comfortable."

Kurt remained silent. He didn't know how to respond to what he'd just been told.

"So, you don't like this life either, huh?"

Kurt shook his head fiercely. "No," he whimpered. "No, I hate it here."

"But you still don't want to go back to your old life," Rory said.

"Right," Kurt agreed.

"Kurt, I can't just keep doing this. Sometimes you'll find that you were given the life you were given for a reason. Things happen for a reason, nothing that occurs in our lives is pointless."

"It's not fair though," Kurt groaned. "It's not fair for me to be treated the way I was in my old life and it's not fair for me to become the thing I hated so much in this life."

Rory sighed. "Are you sure that you want to go somewhere else, Kurt?" he asked in his thick Irish accent. Kurt nodded, and Rory sighed once again. "Alright then," he stood up. "Go to sleep."

* * *

"Kurt," someone began to lightly shake Kurt awake from a deep sleep. "Kurt, sweetie, it's time to wake up."

Kurt woke up, draping his arm over his sensitive eyes that getting by the sun. He waited for his eyes to get adjusted to all the light filtering through the curtains in his room. _His _room! His room! He was in his room again! He looked up to see who it was that had woke him up. "Carole!" Kurt yelled, jumping up in bed and tightening his arms around her neck.

"Wow, honey, you sure seem excited to see me today."

"I've never been more excited to see you in my _life_."

Kurt was happy to have his life back to normal. That is, until he realized that his life was back to _normal_. He would soon be driving to McKinley High School, where their motto is: 'Who cares about Kurt Hummel?!' Where he would, no doubt, be thrown into a dumpster or shoved into a locker. He couldn't really be angry at Rory for sending him back though; at least this life was better than the life where Blaine hated him.

Blaine.

Kurt made a mental note to call his as soon as he could.

"Hi Kurt!" a small blond-headed girl greeted him cheerily. "You look super cute today!"

"Oh," he smiled. "Thank you, sweetie, I tried."

She smiled, bouncing away gleefully.

"Hey!" a tall, popular Cheerio yelled towards him in the hallway. "It's great to see you, Kurt."

_This is strange, normally no one acknowledges my existence_, Kurt thinks as he smiles and says hi to all the strangers who greet him as they pass by in the hall.

Kurt digs through his locker for the textbooks he'll need the next two class periods. Kurt almost screams when he sees Karofsky leaning against the lockers when closes his locker door. _This is it,_ Kurt closed his eyes, ready to be thrown into the lockers or called a fag and get laughed at.

"Are you okay, Kurt?"

"Wh-What?" Kurt muttered in confusion.

"You look scared," Karofsky answered. Was he kidding? Of course Kurt was scared, he knew what happened when he was near Karofsky and lockers and it usually resulted in internal bleeding. Kurt searched through Karofsky's eyes for some hint of sarcasm, but instead was met with sincerity and concern. "Why are you scared?"

"I…" Kurt's cheeks suddenly felt very hot as he grew flustered. Was this a sick reverse psychology trick?

"Come on," Karofsky took Kurt's books from his hands. "Let me walk you to class." Karofsky reached out and grabbed Kurt's hand, causing him to flinch and pull away.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to hold my boyfriends hand while I walk him to class?"

"Boyfriend?" Kurt's eyes widened. "What, I- I'm your _boyfriend_?" _Oh god,_ Kurt thought. _Oh god, oh god, this is not my normal life, things are _not_ normal. I'm freaking out, I'm about to cry. Karofsky is my boyfriend. My tormentor is my boyfriend_. "You're gay?!"

"I thought we went over this on our first date five months ago?"

"Oh god, we've been dating for five months?"

"Kurt, is this supposed to be funny? Because you're kind of hurting my feelings…"

"You don't even like gay people!" Kurt shouted. What kind of fucked up reality was this?

Karofsky looked around as students in the hallways started to quite down and listen in on their conversation. "Kurt," he said, his cheeks growing a bright pink. "I don't understand why you're being so difficult. If you don't want me to walk to class you could just say so, I won't be mad. I'll just wait until I see you at lunch."

Kurt looked around the school, and couldn't believe he didn't notice it the first time.

The blond girl, who was the first person to greet him as he walked into the building, was walking to her locker, hand in hand with a beautiful brunette girl who was much taller than her. He saw two young boys exchanging a flirty conversation at their lockers. He even saw Santana and Brittany have a heated make-out session in the middle of the hallway.

And no one was saying anything. No one was judging them or looking at them any different or calling them names.

In this life, Kurt was born in Lima, Ohio.

Lima, Ohio, who supported Liberalism.

* * *

"Kurt, can you talk to me, please?" Karofsky followed him down the hallway. "Are you mad at me for something? I- I don't get it." he pouted.

"I'm not mad at you, Karofsky, I just… Ugh!" Kurt threw his hands up in the air. Wasn't this what he's always wanted? Hasn't he always wanted to live in a city where he could be who he was without being tormented because of it? So why did everything feel so wrong? "I just need to be alone!"

Karofsky nodded, "Alright. Well, call me later tonight then."

Call. Call Blaine. Kurt walked away from his… boyfriend. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and went straight to his contacts. He needed to talk to Blaine; he needed to hear his voice and his comforting words and he needed to see his big hazel eyes. He needed Blaine.

Kurt scrolled through the B's. No sign of Blaine Anderson. He looked through his whole contact list once, twice, again and again and he still couldn't find Blaine. Where was he? Where was Blaine? He looked around the courtyard, searching for a familiar face. He found Mercedes sitting down at a table with her head on Sam Evan's shoulder.

"Mercedes!" Kurt shouted, running to her. He stopped, noticing he was interrupting something. "We're going to talk about that later," he points to Sam. "But right now, I need your help. Have you seen Blaine?"

Mercedes looked at Kurt, a puzzled expression on her face. She looked to Sam, who shrugged, looking as confused as Mercedes.

"Boo," Mercedes finally says. "Who's Blaine?"

* * *

Kurt has searched all day, asking every one of his glee club members if they've seen Blaine. He asked Rachel, he asked Quinn, he asked Mike, he asked Finn. Every one of them replied with the same answer. Who is Blaine? Kurt was starting to believe that he had made Blaine up from the beginning, that Blaine was just this imaginary boy Kurt had conjured up to get through the tough times until he finally lived in a Liberal city. But he wasn't that creative, there was no possible way he could have just _imagined_ a beautiful, curly-haired boy with light hazel eyes and the voice of an angel. You can't imagine perfection.

He finally found Santana and Brittany, sitting down in the bleachers. "Santana! Britt!" Kurt yelled, running up the steps until he reached the row that Santana and Brittany were in. "You guys," he pants, trying to catch his breath—he was _not_ used to any sort of physical activity that involved more than a power walk.

"Are you okay, Kurt? Because, like, you look like you're going to, like, die." Brittany said, causing Kurt to smile. At least Brittany was still Brittany, no matter what universe she was in.

"You should sit down, Kurt," Santana said as she patted the seat—not occupied by Brittany—next to her on the bleachers. "You really look like you're about to pass out," she frowned.

Kurt nodded and sat down next to Santana for a few minutes until he finally caught his breath. "Wow, I need to work out more," he muttered. Then again, there_ had_ been a lot of stairs…

"So, what's going on?" Santana asked with worry etched on to her face.

"I was wondering if you guys have seen Blaine," Kurt explained. "I've been looking for him everywhere today and I can't find him. He's not even in my phone anymore. It's like he just disappeared, like he doesn't exist anymore."

"Are you talking about Blaine Anderson?"

Kurt felt his spirits lifting. _Finally_ someone knew who Blaine was! "Yes!" Kurt cried out. "Yes, oh my god, thank you so much Santana, you're the first person all day who knows who he is. Where is he? Have you seen him today? Did he just not come today?"

Santana looked at Brittany and frowned before she focused her eyes back on Kurt. "Are you okay, sweetie?"

"What? Yeah, of course I'm okay. I just needed to talk to Blaine really quick, I really need to find him. Can you please tell me where he is or the last place you've seen him?"

"Kurt…" Santana lamented.

"Yeah?"

"Are you talking about Blaine Anderson, the boy who committed suicide three weeks ago?"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**_: _I should warn you guys that there's talk of suicide in this chapter...

* * *

_Blaine Anderson was a student who attended Westerville's local high school, WHS. Anderson was 14 when he transferred from Columbus City Middle School, starting off his high school career at WHS. Anderson was said to have come out of the closet upon arriving at his new school because he "wanted to walk the halls and not have to pretend to be someone he's not." According to Anderson's friends and suicide note found in his bathroom on the day of March 15__th__, coming out of the closet in Westerville was apparently not such a great idea. Students and friends claimed to have seen Anderson violently harassed by local bullies who do not condone his lifestyle choice in conservative town, Westerville, Ohio. The bullying eventually became too much for Blaine, and he wanted to "escape from it the only way he knew how" (as stated in his suicide letter). Blaine Anderson was 16 years old when his parents found his body in his bedroom on the night of March 15__th__. I speak for all of Ohio when I say that you were taken from us far too soon, Blaine. We're sorry you had to resort to this. Rest in peace, and I promise you that the state of Ohio is going to do all it can to prevent bullying from now on. –Westerville Daily newspaper, published March 20__th__, 2012._

The article included pictures of Blaine throughout his life, and you can see his smile slowly being taken away from him with each passing year. The article also included videos of Blaine singing in his high school's glee club, and his suicide letter, which his parents had agreed to let the public see to  
"understand what bullying does to America's youth and how it is an issue that is not to be taken lightly."

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_ I know that you have always accepted me for who I am, and that you have always loved me endlessly. You have loved me the whole time this world has not. I am so sorry that I am not the strong person you think I am, because if I was strong, I wouldn't be writing this letter to you. If I was strong, I'd suffer through all the pain I endure every day in hopes of a brighter tomorrow. But I am so tired of being strong. I can't anymore. I wish it would have been otherwise, I wish that life were different, that we could have moved to a different city, where people were more accepting of the person I am. I wanted to walk down the hallways and not have to pretend that I'm someone I'm not. I just wanted to be happy. I wanted to be _me._ That's all I've ever wanted, but it has always been out of my grasp. I've called out for help so many times, I had begged and pleaded to a god I don't believe in for it all to stop. But no one cared, and I know that no matter what anyone does that it won't stop. I am escaping from the pain the only way I know how._

_ I'm sorry it had to come to this._

'I wish it could have been otherwise.'

And in that moment, Kurt felt his heart shatter into a million, tiny pieces. _He had that,_ Kurt thought, the tears running down his face. His body shook in horrible, uncontrollable sobs. _He had his otherwise and his different life and I took that away from him because I'm selfish._ Kurt screamed. He screamed into his pillow and he screamed into the empty quiet of his bedroom. He screamed because he was a horrible person, he screamed because no matter what he did it could never be right. He screamed because someone had managed to look Blaine in the eye and treat him so horribly that he would resort to suicide. Kurt screamed. He screamed and he screamed until his throat was raw, until he couldn't make a sound anymore. And then, when Kurt finished screaming, he curled up in his bed and cried until he had run out of tears.

"Rory!" Kurt yelled out into the emptiness. "Take me back, please!" he cried. "Take me back, take me back." Kurt repeated, begging to someone who wasn't even there.

Suddenly it was worth it, everything he'd been through the last two years at McKinley and the last seventeen years of his life. Kurt realized that everything he had gone through up until now was to make him as strong as he was. It was to make him strong enough to endure the bullying until Blaine came into his life. Blaine, the beautiful boy with the beautiful smile and the beautiful voice who thought Kurt was beautiful. Blaine, the first boy he had ever held hands with, the first boy he ever dated, the first boy he ever kissed. Blaine Anderson, the first boy he had ever loved.

Blaine Anderson, the boy who thought no one cared about him and killed himself.

The thought of having to go through life without Blaine now that he had lived life with Blaine was suddenly too much to bear. It scared Kurt right to his very core to think that he might be stuck here in a world where Blaine didn't exist, at least not anymore. Kurt didn't think he could live in a world where he'd never be able to hear Blaine's laugh again, or hear him say his name. What if he was stuck in this reality forever? Kurt imagined never seeing Blaine's smile again, or running his fingers through Blaine's hair, or feeling the smoothness of his palm as they held hands.

And it scared him.

* * *

Kurt woke up the next morning, his pillow still wet from the many tears that had fallen on it the night before. Was he still in the same reality he was yesterday? Kurt ran downstairs and found Finn scarfing down a bowl of cereal at the dining room table. "Finn!" Kurt shouted, causing Finn to jump in his seat. "Finn," Kurt sat down across from his step-brother.

"Yeah, dude?" Finn asked, muffled by a mouthful of food.

"Blaine," he says. "Have you talked to Blaine?"

"Dude," he sets his spoon in his bowl. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you this, but… I don't know who that Blaine guy is. He's obviously your friend, not mine. If you need to talk to him so bad, why don't you just go see him?"

Just go see him. Oh, if only Kurt could. "Right," he gets up. "Sorry I bothered you. I just- I forget, sometimes…"

Kurt runs up to his room, once again looking up Blaine's name in his Google search bar. Looking through two pages of search results before he got through all the "_GAY TEEN IN WESTERVILLE COMMITS SUICIDE" _headlines until he finally found what he was looking for.

Finn's right.

Kurt should go see Blaine.

* * *

Kurt got dressed as if he were getting ready to go to school, only doing so to make his dad and step-brother believe that that's where he was going. Really, Kurt took a detour from school to go to a flower shop on the way to Union Cemetery in Columbus.

"Hello, sweetie," an old woman greets him as he walks in the door of the flower shop. "Do you need any help?"'

"Uh," he looks around. "Yeah, you know what, I do need some help. Do you have any flowers that mean 'I miss you'?"

She smiles warmly at Kurt. "Is it for a special someone?"

"Yeah," he smiles sadly at the floor. "They're very special."

She slowly makes her way to the carnation section of the flower shop. "Carnations can mean a lot of things," she explains. "They can mean pure love, good luck, admiration, deep love and affection, but…" she trails off, picking up a bouquet of red and pink carnations. "I guess the meaning of the flower depends on the person giving the flower. Red can mean admiration, but it can also mean I miss you."

Kurt politely takes the bouquet from the woman. She's right. Every flower has a different meaning to somebody else. "Thank you. Uh," he rubs his hand across the back of his neck. "Do you, uh- Do you have white chrysanthemums?" Kurt feels the tears prickling behind his eyes, threatening to fall.

The old woman's face suddenly falls, and she nods, giving Kurt a sad, sympathetic smile. "Of course I do, sweetheart," she puts her hand on Kurt's shoulder, rubbing soothing circles with her palm. She holds up a finger, signaling Kurt to wait where he is. She soon returns with a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, taking the bouquet of the red and pink carnations from Kurt and mixing the two together to create one huge and beautiful bouquet.

She wraps plastic around the flowers, tying them together with a black ribbon. "Here you go sweetie," she hands the bouquet to him.

"How much are they?"

"Was it a lover?" she asks.

"Wh- What?"

"I don't mean to be rude," she says. "But I was wondering if the special person is—was?—a lover."

The tears are back again and Kurt can't look the woman in the eye. "Yeah," his voice cracks. "They were." He wipes the tears now beginning to fall down his cheek. "They were the love of my life," he sniffles.

"No one deserves to lose a loved one," she soothes. "Especially not when you love someone like that. Don't worry about the money, sweetie. It just wouldn't be right for me to stand here and take your money from you, with your sad eyes, when you're about to go give them to someone you loved and lost."

He presses the palm of his hand against the bags under his eyes, trying to make the tears stop. "Thank you," he clears his throat. "Thank you so much."

She smiles at Kurt, and he walks out of the store and into his car, driving for what seems like forever until he reaches Union Cemetery.

* * *

Kurt walks around the cemetery, going up and down the rows of plots until he reaches a lone tombstone underneath a beautiful cherry blossom tree.

_Blaine D. Anderson_

_1996 – 2012_

_This sucks._

Kurt laughed through the tears he didn't even know began to fall. Leave it to Blaine to be sassy, even in the afterlife. Kurt ran his fingers lightly over the top of the headstone. "_Blaine_," he whispered, though no one could hear. He fell to his knees in front of the tombstone, clutching the flowers close to his chest. "I'm so sorry, Blaine," Kurt sobs.

Kurt places the flowers down in front of the headstone, lightly tracing his fingers over the letters in Blaine's name. "I- It's my fault that you ended up like this. If I hadn't felt so sorry for myself, you'd be alive right now." He wipes the tears from his cheeks, taking in a deep breath. "At least in our old life we had each other. You didn't have anyone here. You didn't have Dalton or the Warblers or- or me… I don't think I can stay here without you, Blaine. I don't think I'm strong enough for this. I can handle being called names, getting shoved into lockers but- but I can't handle living without you. Not when I've learned to live with you, Blaine. You," Kurt laughs. "You saved me, you know? I don't know where I'd be now if I hadn't met you that day at Dalton. I'm so stupid, Blaine. I was too busy focusing on the things I didn't have and I couldn't realize what I _did_ have."

He brings his knees up to his chest, laying his head on his knees. "I'm so sorry," he repeats. "I'd give anything to go back, you know. I realize it now. I realize how good my life was. No matter what happened, at least I had you. I had you to hold my hand and drink coffee with me and kiss my nose. Being with you was what got me through the day and," Kurt takes in a deep, shaky breath. "And when I was with you I felt like the most important person in the world. Thank you, Blaine. Thank you for making me feel special and important and loved."

Kurt stood up, brushing off his pants. His fingers linger above the top of the headstone for a bit. "I love you, Blaine," Kurt whispers before walking back to his car and crying all the way home to Lima.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: Well, this is it! This is the last chapter. :) I hope you guys enjoyed my story, I appreciate all of my readers.

* * *

Kurt lies in bed, wondering how on earth he hasn't run out of tears yet. All he wants right now is to hold Blaine's hand, to feel his arms around him when they hug. Once again he's hit with all the memories him and Blaine have shared, and he thinks of all the memories they never got the chance to make.

"You're gonna run out of tears, mate," Rory says from across the room.

Kurt sits up in bed, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. "Yeah right," Kurt scoffs. "I've been at it for the last three days, if they haven't run out now I don't think they ever will."

Rory frowns, "I'm sorry."

"Rory, take me back," Kurt whispers.

"Kurt…"

"Please take me back, Rory," Kurt pleaded.

"You chose to come here instead of going back home," he sat down on the bed next to Kurt, smoothing out his hair to comfort him.

Blaine used to play with his hair.

Blaine would never play with Kurt's hair again.

"I get it now, though," Kurt muttered numbly. "I get why my life was the way it was. I get the moral of the story, its okay to send me back now."

Rory gave Kurt a sad smile.

"We always learn our lesson once it's too late."

* * *

So that was it then.

One minute Rory was there, trying to comfort Kurt and the next minute he vanishes.

Just like Blaine. Rory would never be back again. Just like Blaine.

Kurt suddenly regretted being as selfish as he was. Sure, he was given a life harder than others, but he was given _life_. He was given a life where he learned from a very young age what it meant to be strong. He was given a life that gave him a great family and great friends and a great almost-but-not-quite boyfriend, and he was so ungrateful.

It's true what they say.

You don't know what you've got until it's gone.

* * *

"Kurt, wake up sweetie." Carole once again lulled Kurt out of a deep sleep.

"What's the point?" Kurt groaned, pulling the covers back over his face. "I don't want to go to school."

"It's Saturday, Kurt," Carole clarified. "Someone is here to see you."

Kurt miserably shuffled downstairs to go see who was waiting for him at the door. He opened the door and was greeted with Rachel, who stood there cheerfully in her polka dot stockings, red pelted plaid miniskirt, and white t-shirt. "Are you ready?"

"For what?" Kurt grumbled.

"Coffee!"

Kurt wasn't so sure how he would manage to survive going out for coffee with _Rachel._ Though, he decided that being annoyed with someone else was better than being alone, because he'll always feel sad and alone without Blaine in his life to brighten it.

After a very heated argument, Rachel had somehow managed to convince Kurt to change out of his pajamas and go down to the Lima Bean with her. He was already regretting that he agreed to come to the Lima Bean with Rachel. He seemed to be regretting a lot of things lately.

When Kurt opened his mouth to order, arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him close to the person behind him. "A grande non-fat mocha for the amazing boy right here, and a medium drip for me, please." A chin was rested on Kurt's shoulder and the arms around his waist tightened as the barista smiled and nodded, asking for their names. "Kurt and Blaine," the mystery person answers.

Blaine? No. It couldn't be Blaine because Blaine was- was dead. Kurt turned around to face the person holding him, and ask why they would do such a cruel thing to him. But when he turned around he was greeted by shiny hazel eyes and a beautiful smile that was so contagious.

He came face to face with Blaine.

"Oh my god," he cried. "Oh my god," he wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck and hid his face in the crook of his neck, the hot tears already flowing down his cheeks.

"I'm just- I'm just going to go over… there," Rachel whispers, scurrying away from Kurt and Blaine's private moment.

Blaine presses kisses into Kurt's hair, shushing him and rubbing his back. "Are you okay? Why are you crying? Kurt, don't cry, please. You're going to make me cry." The softness of Blaine's voice only caused Kurt to cry even harder. He had missed that voice so much—the voice he thought he would never hear again.

Blaine holds Kurt's face, laying a hand on each cheek and looking into Kurt's eyes. "What's the matter?" he whispers, catching the tears falling down Kurt's cheeks with the pad of his thumb. "What's wrong?"

"I just," Kurt inhales deeply, his crying making it hard for him to breathe. "I just don't know what I'd do without you," he managed to say through his hiccups.

Blaine's facial expression switched from concerned to happy, his beautiful smile stretching across his face. "Well, then stop crying, because you don't ever have to worry about that," Blaine assures him. He holds Kurt's hand as they walk with their coffee to their table. "I'm here for as long as you'll have me."

Kurt watches Blaine's every movement. He watches the sweep of his hands as they grab onto the coffee cup, he watches the hand gestures Blaine makes when he's excited, he pays attention to the move of his lips as he talks and the way his eyebrows rise up and down. He mainly pays attention to Blaine's big hazel eyes that he loves so much, and the pitch of his voice as he smiles and talks to Kurt.

"I love you," Kurt says sweetly, staring into Blaine's eyes dreamily.

Blaine stays silent for a moment, and Kurt can see the shock in his eyes. A huge smile spreads across his face, lightening his eyes. He is radiating. "I love you, too, Kurt."

Kurt may not have the best life ever, but he has the help of his family and amazing friends in glee and the love of his life to help him through all the bad times and laugh with him through all the good.

And in the end, that's all he could ever ask for.


End file.
